


fear

by annadavidson



Series: that which shaped the century (a dragon age dual au) [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Dual AU, Dual AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: He wasn’t worried. Nope, he was completely calm.Prompt: Together in the dark.





	

He wasn’t worried. Nope, he was completely calm. It wasn’t like he was soaking wet from the constant rain or in an undead infested swamp. And it wasn’t like he’d lost the majority of the party he’d arrived with. Except that was exactly what had happened and what was currently happening.

Galen’s hood and jacket did little to keep him dry since they too were soaked. He was freezing and certain he’d leave this godsforsaken place with a cold. He hated the Fallow Mire. The main reason behind his hatred were the undead that stalked the darkness - why couldn’t they ever visit the Fallow Mire during the day? The undead terrified him beyond reason, and it was their fault that he’d been separated from almost everyone in his party.

The only one who’d managed to stick with him was Bull, who he’d admittedly just recently stopped clinging to. They had been crossing a deteriorating bridge when Galen had slipped and fallen into knee-deep water. For reasons that eluded him, any interference with the water stirred the undead. The next thing the young Inquisitor had known, he’d been surrounded on all sides by undead with even more stumbling their way onto the bridge toward the rest of the party.

Now Galen was usually good in a fight, lethal even, but the undead terrified him. He didn’t know where or when that fear had originated. Before the Fallow Mire, he couldn’t remember running into any undead before, but perhaps when he’d been a child, while his clan moved around, he’d had an encounter and blocked it from his memories. Either way, his body had frozen in place. His hands had sparked with electricity, his magic reacting to his fear.

The next thing he’d known, arrows thwacked into a few undead heads courtesy of Sera. He had then been grabbed by the back of his jacket and yanked out of the water, his mind taking a moment to register that it was the Iron Bull who’d grabbed him. Being grabbed had caused him to stir out of his frozen state, and he kicked out and squirmed, trying to get himself free. He had only stopped when he’d realized it was Bull, the qunari holding him in one hand and his sword in another.

He’d been set on the shore behind Bull, whose wrist he couldn’t bring himself to let go of. More undead kept popping up, perhaps because each time they knocked one down, it fell into the water and caused more to stir. Eventually it had been decided that the party would retreat to the nearest camp, where there was better lighting from a fire in case the undead decided to follow them. Galen often forgot that other races couldn’t see as well in the dark as elves.

He honestly wasn’t sure how they’d gotten separated, but found it easier to blame the undead. Of course blaming himself came easy to the elf. And quickly. His ears lowered under his hood, and he stopped walking, looking up at Bull, who protectively still had his sword clutched in his hand, ready to be swung at any undead that dared pop it’s ugly head up.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, causing Bull to pause and look down at him.

“For what, boss?” Bull asked, clearly confused. He knew the elf was quick to feel guilty for anything, especially things that weren’t his fault, but he wasn’t sure if Galen was apologizing in general or for something he thought he’d done wrong specifically toward him. He couldn’t think of any unpleasant encounters with the elf so he decided it must be the former. Then he remembered what had happened with the undead and added softly, wanting Galen to know he wasn’t upset, “Everyone gets scared.”

Now he knew elves had good hearing so he _knew_ Galen had heard that last part, even though he acted like he hadn’t.

“I… I shouldn’t have froze,” Galen said slowly, carefully thinking over his words like he always did. It was common knowledge among the inner circle and those close to him that he had trouble putting his thoughts and feelings to words. It was why he typically followed his sister’s lead, bouncing off her ideas and her words - it helped that they agreed on almost everything. “I shouldn’t let my fear get to me… We could have taken them better if I’d helped out. You could have fought better if I hadn’t been so clingy.”

Bull stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and this time making sure Galen’s eyes were on him and not the ground. “Everyone gets scared, Galen.” It wasn’t often that he used his name and not _boss._ But that simple change was enough to snag Galen’s attention and keep it.

He could see Galen’s mind working as if searching for something that wasn’t there.

“I’ve never seen you get scared,” the words came after a moment’s pause.

Bull lightly chuckled. “Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

Galen tilted his head to the side, finding it hard to picture the Iron Bull scared. Bull was always there, staring danger in the face to protect him and others. But certainly there was something that frightened everyone. Bull wasn’t fond of demons, but he didn’t think they scared him.

“Fear doesn’t make you weak,” Bull added, having figured out where Galen’s original train of thought was heading. “You underestimate yourself too much. You compare yourself to others, but everyone deals with fear differently.”

Galen nodded, not sure how to argue that. He shivered under his coat, which Bull noticed and moved to stand beside him. The qunari slung his arm across Galen’s shoulders, pulling the elf closer to his side and warmth. He felt Galen’s body relax and slung his sword across his back, feeling it was safe to assume they weren’t about to get ambushed by any undead.

“Let’s get you back to camp, boss,” he started walking again, keeping Galen at his side to keep him warm. “I’m sure Dorian would have my head if I don’t get his amatus safely back to camp.”

Galen smiled at the thought of Dorian lecturing Bull. He didn’t think it was likely to happen, but it still made for a funny picture.

“Don’t worry,” he grinned playfully up at Bull, “I’ll protect you from the mean old Tevinter.”

Bull barked out a laugh. It wasn’t often that Galen made jokes, but he’d noticed every time he laughed at one of Galen’s jokes, it encouraged him to ease up and joke around more. And while the Inquisitor’s jokes may not have always been funny, sometimes it was just funny that Galen thought they were funny. Besides, while Galen was enjoying the humor of picture Dorian trying to yell up at Bull, all Bull could picture was the tiny elf at his side standing in front of him, trying to look fierce and protect him.

It was a sweet but also hilarious thing to picture.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/154565758090/iron-bull-deep-mushroom).


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